Matt's Beginning
by bmsnakia361991
Summary: This is the first in a Trilogy about Matt.  The first is Matt attending Whammy's and meeting Mello and all the trouble they cause!  Rated M because of any crude language and uncomfortable themes.
1. Mail

Well, this is the first in a trilogy dedicated to Matt's life. There are spoilers for any and all names in this story, so be prepared. I fully intend to finish this series. I have actually already got the entire plot planned out, and varies pieces of each of the 3 different stories already typed out. I have no idea how long this series will be, but so far, all together, there is over 12000 words.

Anyway, if you didn't know, which you should if you're even on this page…anyway, IF you did not know, Matt is a boy from Death Note. A unimportant character, but still so much fun to play with. I've made him a redhead in this story, mainly because I'm a natural redhead and I absolutely love the thought of him sharing features with me! (green eyes and red hair ^_^) So, if you have a problem with Fan!Matt, then you might wanna go somewhere else.

Where was I? Oh yes. Matt is the 3rd in line at Whammy's behind Near and Mello. He assists Mello in the series and only appears in less than 20 different spots in the entire series.

Lets see…Mello will be in this one. But not for a while. This will mainly be focusing on Matt in the beginning and trying to give you a feel for his character. When Mello is introduced then he and Matt's relationship will be the main focus from then on.

I'm not yet sure whether this will become a slash or just stick with just being a strictly friendship fic. If it is kept only at a friendship level then be warned that it will be a close friendship, with possible shounen-ai references if you would wish to interpret them in that way. I guess you can review and tell me what you want. I suppose I could always put up two different versions if there is a need.

So…without taking up anymore of you're valuable time…here is the story!

**MATT'S BEGINNING**

MAIL

Mail was a quiet child. Even as a baby he never made much of a fuss. So it came as no surprise to anyone who knew of him that he didn't speak at all when it happened. Friends of his parents and neighbors had gathered around the cops to try and explain that fact. They had all turned sad, sympathetic eyes towards the young boy. He didn't speak and, if you didn't count the soot and burns covering his tiny frame, he looked to be completely at ease. They simply assumed that he hadn't grasped the situation yet. They were wrong.

Mail was also a very intelligent child. Even as early as four years old, he knew what death was. And what it meant. And looking around at the sad faces that kept glancing towards him, he knew, without a doubt, that his parents had died in that fire.

Judging by the guilty glances full of pity and fear, he suspected that everyone was deciding on how to tell him and who should be the one to break the news. Not that he needed someone to tell him. He was well aware that his parents were gone and were never going to return. He didn't much care though, to be honest. Nothing much would really change for him. A new house would be a given. He couldn't very well live in the charred remains of what used to be his residence. Most likely, he would be sent of to a nearby orphanage. A thought that was most unappealing to the young redhead. He was not looking forward to having to share a room with anyone else. He had been an only child and was used to his privacy.

However, he was truly saddened by the loss of all of his gaming systems, with the exception of his handheld, which was conveniently residing in his pocket at the time of the fire. Where would he get new ones? And who would buy them now that his parents were gone?

Mail was never abused. He was a good, obedient child. He did what he was told and was, for the most part, left on his own. He had never actually considered himself neglected, but he had known that was the term for it. He was actually rather content with the arrangement they had all had. They would set out a plate of food for him every morning, afternoon and night, they would wash his clothes for him, and they would buy him whatever items he would request of them. Other than that, Mail Jeevas was alone. Just as he preferred. He was very happy just to be left in his room playing one of his multiple video games or messing with his desktop computer his father had provided. Mail had requested a laptop, but his father had claimed that they were just too fragile for a 4 year old to handle.

While Mail was reminiscing about the poor electronics that had melted down in the fire, he noticed, out of the corner of his eyes, a nervous looking cop edging his way over to the small redhead.

"Hey there, Mail. That is you're name, right? Mail?" The sad officer said gently. Mail looked up at the tall man clinically. So this was the one who had volunteered to tell a small child of the death of his parents? The poor, brave man. Mail nodded his head once.

The officer gave a noticeable shudder at the dull, emotionless green eyes staring up at his, as if staring deep into his soul. Those eyes had no place on a child. A hint of grief would be an almost welcomed relief from their piercing, stoic gaze. He took a deep breath, his horrifying job already feeling easier, and spoke to the child.

"I don't quite know how to tell you this but…"

That had been a week ago. They had tried to be kind to the poor boy who had just lost his family and all his possessions in the electrical fire that had taken out his entire home, but it had been difficult. They wanted to comfort the small boy, but he had all but turned them away. Some women looked on in sadness, thinking they understood the sadness in his heart, or the stubbornness that his family had been known for. A shame they could never really understand.

Mail was different than the others and he knew that well. It was hard not to notice with all the coldness in the eyes of strangers. And suddenly, that coldness that had once barely permeated through his outer walls, now surrounded him at all times. No longer was there anyone to look upon him with a warm gleam in their eyes. With a resigned sigh, Mail realized that he would miss his parents. At least they would properly look at him without mistrust and fear.

Today he was being moved into the St. Joseph's Orphanage. A small orphanage that barely sustained the large number of children it already held, let alone adding more to it's already cramped walls. The ride to the building had been very anti-climactic. He sat in the back of the police car during the drive, never speaking. A small backpack settled into his lap that held all of his new possessions. A few t-shirts, two pairs of pants, two boxers, and his beloved handheld.

When they arrived, he entered through the small double doors and sat down his puny bag of belongings he had carried with him as the cops who had attended to him over the past week, quickly turned away, thankful to never have to deal with the frightening child again.

The older woman in charge had smiled at first. It was a most welcomed relief. The first warmth in a week. And then, as expected, the smiles faded, like a memory of a dream. The longer she spent with him, the faster the faded smiles would grow into weary frowns. She quickly began to see something different in this child. Something, she knew, the other children and guardians would never come to accept. She quickly dropped the child off in his joint room, along with the other boys, and rushed off.

She had a phone call to make.

In the room filled with children, Mail felt more alone than ever before. A silence rang through the room as all the other boys had frozen, taking in their small, new roommate. Mail could only wonder what the others saw when they looked at him. Did they see a scared little boy? Mail could only hope not. Perhaps they saw the same strangeness that everyone else seemed to identify almost immediately. Mail suspected that one to be true when a couple boys turned away with frowns on their faces. Maybe, he thought, they thought I was just another kid like them and will leave me alone. But Mail truly doubted it. Mail just wasn't that lucky.

His second assumption seemed to be correct as the boys all slept in beds farthest away from Mail that night.


	2. St Joseph's Orphanage

Alright! The second chapter to Matt's Beginning! Woo-hoo! Seriously though. I'm still a bit new to posting multi-chaptered stories so bare with me if I end up getting it wrong.

And thanks to all who have read my story and have enjoyed it! I love hearing your opinions of them so don't be afraid to review. Even if it is a flame. (but could you give actual reasons why something is bad rather than just 'your story sucks!') And if you ever see something inconsistent in the story please inform me so I can fix it!

**MATT'S BEGINNING**

ST. JOSEPH'S ORPHANAGE

Mail knew he frightened the other children. He was always aware of the strange looks he attracted from them, and even some of the ladies who ran the orphanage. It was his eyes, his mother had once told him.

"You're eyes are so much older than you are. The knowledge and boredom they hold scare those who don't know how to deal with an intelligent child like you."

Mail had only been at this orphanage for two weeks and already they wanted him gone. He could see it in their eyes, feel it in their stare. He knew, as he would make the long trek back to his small, crowded room, that no one in this tiny place wanted him. The guardians here, who were in charge of pushing the sell of a young boy or girl to an eager young couple, had even stayed away from the strange little boy who never spoke. It seemed that they just couldn't find it in themselves to force the silent kid onto any one else, no matter how badly they wanted him gone.

It wasn't that Mail couldn't or even wouldn't speak. He just never saw any reason too. If these people truly did fear the intelligence behind his eyes so badly, how could they be trusted to act rationally if he actually spoke to them? He knew that it was impossible for his eyes to show all he knew. His voice would outshine any meager amount of intellect his eyes could ever hope to show. So he didn't speak. At all.

At the moment, they, being the children of the orphanage, were out on the playground. The young ones were pulling out massive amounts of sand from the sandbox or climbing up the small ladder only to slide back down the slick surface of the slide and turn to go to the end of the line for another monotonous turn. The older ones would go and take up a spot on one of the swings and kick their legs back and forward, swinging themselves higher and higher, each trying to outdo the other. Or perhaps they would be off playing a rough game of kickball or even dodge ball, if the guardians aren't paying too close attention.

Mail did nothing of the sort. He hated being outside, even during recess. It was far too bright on his sensitive eyes and the grass just made his nose itchy. Who could ever enjoy this?

At four years old, he supposed he would have to be counted as one of the younger ones. Though he would never openly admit to such a depressing thought. That he would be counted as an equal to the slobbering and snotting little children who managed to entertain themselves by dumping sand in the others hair was irritating. He was mildly disgusted though his face didn't show it. Mail just wasn't able to see the connection between the other children and him. Even the older ones. They just weren't like him. No one here was.

As he was once again contemplating the lack of similarities between himself and other children his own age, a long, sleek, black limousine had pulled up in front of the orphanage gate. Even from the playground fences, the children found they could point and gawk at the unexpected, fancy car that had approached. And when the old gentleman stepped out of the vehicle, the children had almost immediately rushed back inside to, hopefully, pack their bags and leave this rotting, decrepit house.

Mail, however, was one of the last to leave. Not because he wished to spend even more time outside than was necessary, he didn't if fact, nor was it because he had no interest in getting adopted. No. Mail just felt no need to be rushed. If by some off chance that these people decided they wanted him, then they could wait while he successfully managed not to get crushed by the bigger clumsy kids who would climb over each other for the chance to get into a happy family. After all, he had a hard enough time getting adopted as it was, why would he want to further lower the chance by being crippled?

As Mail approached the doorway he overheard the head nurse speaking with someone just inside, out of his line of vision.

"Are you certain that they said the Jeevas boy?"

"Of course. I double checked myself. Just be thankful that that boy is finally leaving. Two weeks of those creepy eyes of his were two weeks too much."

Mail had paused as he overheard the two women speaking of him. He was leaving? For a moment he wondered where he would be going? Would they take his to a nice rich family who would leave him alone to play games? Or would he have to go to a smaller, poorer family that already had three kids, but decided, 'just one more'? Perhaps he wasn't actually being adopted at all. Maybe they were throwing him out or transferring him to a different orphanage. It wasn't unheard of. They had made it clear that he wasn't wanted here. Although, it was a bit extreme he mused to himself, to throw a four year old out on the street. So he highly doubted it was that.

With a sigh he moved forward, into the light so that the two women could see him before calmly looking up and assessing them. They weren't that hard to read. They never were. The women looked down as he emerged from the doorway, flinching a bit at the quiet movements he made, seeming to step out of the shadows themselves. Mail could see the distaste written across their faces. Well, if what he heard was true then they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore, would they? So there really was no need for the disgust they were showing. How petty, he thought as he let out a near silent sigh.

"I overheard you speaking. Were you looking for me?" He asked, at once realizing that these were the first words he had spoken to the women. He came to this realization by the shocked, gasps that left the two nurses. He cracked a tiny smile as he compared the gasping women to fish in his mind.

The head nurse was the first to recover.

"Y-you can talk? My word! We all thought you were mute!" She exclaimed, seeming to be talking more to herself than to the small redheaded child before her. Nevertheless, Mail responded.

"No, I am able to speak. I just don't see a need to speak unnecessarily. Its too much effort." he spoke, in an almost bored tone.

The once-recovered head nurse was back to blubbering like a fish. Was it that unusual to see a child who could actually speak for himself? He tried thinking back to the other smaller children here to see if they could speak as well. _Hmm…_he thought_, they could, but not as well as I can_. He had enjoyed being able to communicate with his family when he was younger and so he had closely listened to any communication in hopes of picking up on it. It had made things so much easier in the long run. He truly hated information being lost in the communication.

Seeing that the women in front of him had been rendered speechless, and seemed unable to recover any time soon, Mail sighed and, with a roll of his eyes, turned to walk off towards the Main Caretaker's office. If he was leaving to go anywhere, she would be the one to know. Mail chanced a look back at the two women he had left.

They still hadn't moved. He wondered for a moment if he should go inform someone, but immediately dismissed the idea as it would have been too much trouble.

The trip to the Head Caretaker's office was uneventful. A simple, peaceful 2 minute walk. No children ran by screaming, as they were on their best behavior, hoping to be chosen by the man in the limo. After all, who would want an misbehaved child? Mail arrived at the door at the same time as the older man he had watched get out of said limo. Unexpected, but Mail wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to take in this man's appearance.

He was old. Not decrepit, but still fairly old. Mail would have put his at least 50. There was a small, warm smile on the man's face. A caring, true one. Mail could easily tell that this man was here for a child. For a moment, Mail considered that whichever child was picked by this man, would be very lucky indeed. There was just something about that smile that Mail found he liked.

"Well, hello there. And what's your name?" the man said gently, yet firmly, the way a child _should _be spoken to, in Mail's opinion. It wasn't in a condescending tone, and it didn't imply that he had no knowledge. Mail immediately took a liking to this man.

"Mail. My name is Mail Jeevas." Mail answered in a tone equal to that of the man before him. Mail watched as the man's eyes widened a bit before his smile grew larger.

"Ah, so you're Mail? I've heard a lot about you. It's a pleasure to finally get to meet you." The man said sticking his hand out to the boy. A handshake. "You make call me Quillish Whammy."

Quillish? What an odd name. But, Mail supposed, 'Mail' wasn't much better. Actually, now that he thought about it, Mail was much _worse_. What were his parents thinking?

Mail shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts before reaching out and shaking the man's hand.

"It's nice to meet you as well Mr. Whammy. May I ask how you know of me?" It was a legitimate question for Mail to ask. How _did_ this man hear of him? It wasn't as though there was actually anyone to go advertise his presence. And no one here liked him well enough to actually talk of him.

Quillish let out a laugh at the child's question. He _was _intelligent! Just as Anna had said! Anna, the head caretaker for this orphanage, had phoned nearly 2 weeks ago to inform him of the strange new child they had taken in. In fact, every day she called to let them know more about this oddity. He didn't speak, she would say. He didn't play with the other children. He kept out of everyone's way. He was most always alone. And most of all, he was far more intelligent than any of his peers.

It was a simple fact. One that no one else here had seemed to pick up on. They were all to frightened of the look in the child's eyes to see the knowledge inside them. But it was clear to Quillish. He had raised L. He knew intelligence when he saw it, and this kid was overflowing with it.

"Ah, Ms. Anna informed me of you when you first arrived. I'm afraid I haven't had the time to visit you until now. And I'm so glad that I did." Quillish said with a smile.

Mail's eyes widened. The head caretaker had mentioned him to this man? He had wondered who would tell anyone about him, but Ms. Anna? Sure, she had seemed kind when he first arrived, but since then she's barely spared him a second glance. It made Mail's stomach clench in anger at having been spied on so heavily. She had to have been, in order to give information about himself to this stranger. Important information, or else he wouldn't have made the trip.

Mail reveled in the anger for a moment, before releasing it. There was no point in getting upset. It was over and done with. He wasn't the type to hold a grudge. It was pointless and childish.

Mail let out a sigh before looking up at the man's face, carefully avoiding his eyes. Mail didn't want to see the fear in them that he knew would be there, just as it was in every other person's eyes. Including Ms. Anna.

"So now that you've met me, will you run off too?" He asked in a dejected, but not truly sad voice. It was just expected. It really didn't bother him all that much. But, he supposed, it would be nice to have at least someone not run, right off, away from him. But it really didn't matter.

Quillish just smiled sadly at the boy. He was quite a bit like L. Alone and uncaring. So Quillish did what he came here to do. He held out a hand to the boy and smiled.

"No, I'm afraid not. I've actually come to take you away from this place. You've been accepted into Whammy's Orphanage for Gifted Children. Or if you prefer, just simply Whammy's House."

* * *

><p>Ok, so there is another chapter written! I'm thinking about going ahead a posting it's sequel, Away From You, because I had started writing it before this. This is basically just the background story to the next one. If you guys want that then just send me a message or review! If just one person wants it then I'll go ahead and post it.<p>

Now onto the other thing, the person 15th to review this story will be offered the chance at having their own story written for them. You can request any sort of short story in any category I have knowledge of. The options are listed at the end of this document. It will be a short story, most likely less than 5000 words, but you may choose the plot, summary, characters, whatever you wish and I'll try to do it justice. Be warned though however, this will be the first time I have attempted to write a story for another person.

List of category offered above:

Death Note

Bleach

Inuyasha

Naruto

FullMetal Alchemist (NOT brotherhood)

Harry Potter

Blood Plus

Ouran High School Host Club

Soul Eater

Tales of Vesperia

If there is an option not on this list that you want, you may ask about it, but the chance are that I likely wouldn't have the base amount of knowledge in order to write a decent story, but you should still free to ask.

And if anyone just simply wants to ask about a story, feel free to. I have an overabundance of free time and might be willing to take up an interest in your request. It never hurts to ask after all!


	3. Whammy's House

The third chapter of Matt's Beginning. I actually had some trouble with the first part of this chapter. I couldn't figure out how on earth to get him out of the orphanage! So…I cheated and just skipped the main process. Sorry! It was either that or making you wait another whole week for me to finally decide on how to make it work.

I hope you guys enjoy this though! We finally get into Whammy's House in this chapter! And goggleboy will finally be born!

**MATT'S BEGINNING**

**Whammy's House**

Mail couldn't force himself to believe he heard right. This man…came to take him away? Away from this tormented house full of people who despised him? Was this actually real? A smile slowly lit up his face. He actually _was_ leaving! Finally! This place was horrible.

Quillish watched as the boy literally was brimming with excitement. He had to stifle a laugh at the child. This child was amazingly similar to L. A warmth rang through his heart at the thought. It had been so long since L had been this small. Even then he had been unwelcoming to any affection. It seemed this child would be the same. Whammy hadn't even known that there was any children that could be anything like L.

After all, L was rather unique.

Mail never knew what was going on inside the older man's head as he was far too focused on how eager he was to leave this place. He reached a hand down into his pocket and fingered his handheld before smiling up at the man again and grasping the offered hand.

"Can we go now?"

It pulled Whammy out of his thoughts. Now? A heartstring was tugged as he realized the child _had _meant _right now._ Was there nothing he wished to take with him? Or was this child so untrusting of anyone else, so dependent on himself as to keep all he own on himself at all times?

The beaming smile on the child's face told Whammy all he needed to know.

"Yes, we need to speak to Miss Anna and then we will leave. Do you need to get anything?" Whammy stated in a calm voice, never betraying the heart wrenching thoughts flying through his head.

Mail shook his head as he, still holding onto Quillish's hand, ran off towards the office Miss Anna was almost always in. He just couldn't fight back the happiness at leaving. It was great. Any place that had a man like Whammy would be a hundred times better than here.

._^_.^._^_.^._^_.^._^_.^._^_.

It hadn't take more than 15 minutes to get everything set up before Mail and Quillish were on their was towards Winchester and in less than 2 hours, Mail had arrived at his new home. Whammy's House. Mail stood in awe at the large mansion that would serve as his home from now on. It was beautiful. From the gate at the bottom of the hill, you could see the entire property. An enormous field large enough for a hundred children to play on spaciously. The wildflowers that grew around the perimeter of the house were shaded in all variations of the rainbow. Even Mail, who could care less about the outdoors at all, couldn't help but think of how pretty it all was.

He followed Mr. Whammy up the poured walkway and through the front doors to the mansion. If the outside was pretty, the inside was gorgeous. Mail gazed into the multiple rooms as he passed by them in amazement. Everything was so beautiful.

The only thing that made Mail curious about was the lack of children in the hallways. The whole way, Mail hadn't spotted one child. Mail could only assume that they were either in classes or at a meal at the moment. Such a large building had to have many children and to see _none _was strange. It made the building look…lonely in spite of all the beauty.

They passed through the hallways and stopped in front of a simple door with the words, 'Head Administrator' written in bold ink on the glass. Mail watched as Whammy grabbed the handle without even knocking and opened the door.

Walking into the office somehow made it real. The older gentleman sitting stoically in the large swivel chair behind the desk was what Mail thought made it so. This man just screamed authority. There was no doubt that he was the man in charge. And reluctantly if the displeased sigh was anything to go by.

Mail wasn't intimidated in the least bit. He had met many people like this. People who just didn't like children. Mail couldn't ever find it in him to blame them. He didn't like children either. They were too loud and gave other children like him a bad name. They were the reason that no one ever spoke to him properly.

The older man had focused on Whammy at first, not even bothering to spare Mail a glance. He spoke in a quiet, clear tone indicating that he respected Whammy very much. _So that's why he's here. Whammy asked him._ Mail may not have enjoyed social interactions very much, but it was easy for him to read people. It was a curse, Mail had decided many years ago.

When the man finally turned his attention to Mail, Mail considered momentarily ignoring him and only speaking to Whammy, but thought better of it as it would take far too much effort to begin a rivalry with his future caretaker.

"Mail? Congratulations on making it in here. I am Roger, the head caretaker here at Whammy's. Is there anything you would like?" The man, Roger, had asked in a kind voice. It almost felt real. Mail gave the man a strange look at the question he had asked. Anything he wanted? Like what?

"I'm afraid I don't understand." It was more than Mail had wanted to say to the man, but it had been necessary. Roger stared curiously at the small boy. Perhaps this child's first language wasn't English. It wasn't unheard of here. He tried again.

"We try to encourage the children here to be themselves. To express their own individuality. So, is there anything, anything at all, that you would like to have?" Roger paused as he watched the boy's expression change. He clearly understood it all, so language wasn't the issue. Maybe he just wasn't used to being offered items.

Mail was careful not to fully show how excited he was at this offer. Finally he could have the items that he lost last month. For a brief second, he was reminded of his lost parents before shoving the thought out of his mind. They weren't a thought for now.

"Anything?" He asked, needing to make sure. Roger smiled at the question. This was the only part of his job that he actually enjoyed. This first moment where he could make a single, lost, child happy.

"Yes Mail. Anything you would like." Mail nodded his head, his decision already made.

"Xbox 360, Playstation 3, and some games for those and my handheld," Mail drug out his handheld from his pocket to show to the men, "a laptop, and…goggles." Mail finished with a slight hesitation.

"Goggles?" Roger mimicked the boy sitting in front of his desk wondering just what a 4 year old would want with goggles.

Mail nodded at the man. If he was going to be able to have anything he wanted, it would be something to cover his eyes. Maybe in this new place, if no one saw his eyes, then they wouldn't treat him so harshly. He hated the way his eyes 'shown with intelligence' as his mother had put it. So if he could cover them, he would.

"Yeah, I want goggles. Preferably orange-tinted. With a white frame please." He spoke more confidently. Yes, orange and white would be good. A nice combination in his opinion. And the orange tint should easily hide his eyes from anyone he would meet. The main reason he wanted them. Something to block his intelligence from shining through. Even if the students here were like him, he wanted to give them no reason to be afraid.

Roger nodded slowly at the boy. It wasn't the most unusual request he had heard, but it was still odd nonetheless. Why would he want goggles? But oh well. He had said anything after all.

"Alright. Now for clothing, did you have any preferences?" Mail blinked at the man. Clothing? He looked down at his simple outfit he had on. A striped t-shirt and a pair of loose jeans. Well, this was good enough, right?

"Uh…just more of this would be fine." He answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Both Roger and Whammy glanced down at the child's wardrobe. It wasn't much at all. Just a t-shirt and jeans. Roger frowned a bit, maybe the boy meant he just like stripes? He made a mental note to check out various striped patterns in their catalogue. Whammy cleared his throat, alerting Roger that he needed to continue.

"Oh, yes. Well, there is another matter to be taken care of before we get you a schedule and get you settled in." Mail waited patiently for the next issue to be addressed. "Your name." His name? He would have to get a new name? Was there that much security around here that the orphans had to have aliases? A look closer at Roger and Whammy's face clearly said, yes. Mail nodded once.

"We have a few choices here that you may pick from. Pick whichever one you like, but remember that you will not get the chance to change it."

Mail took the small sheet of paper that Roger clutched in his hands. There were ten names written on the sheet. At least he thought they were names. Some of them were just strange.

'Mace, Macro, Marks, Mask, Matt, Mello, Metro, Micro, Mike, Mile'

Well…they were all kinda weird. Expecially Mello. What kind of a name was that? It wasn't even spelled properly. Mail shook his head clearing his thoughts. He did like Matt though. It sounded almost normal. Much better, in his opinion, than Mail.

"Matt." He said handing the paper back. Roger grabbed the paper smiling. An unusual choice. Not many of the student choose a simple, normal name. Most like the stranger names like Micro or Mask. Roger could easily see himself and this child getting along well. He thought with a grin. This child was clearly unlike any of the other students here. Good. He hated dealing with unruly children.


	4. Getting the Feel of Things

The fourth chapter for Matt's Beginning. We're almost past this lonely child thing Matt has going on. Thank God. I personally can't wait for him to meet Mello. I love that little ball of fire!

I'm up to 26,000 words total for all of the trilogy together already. That's more than I have ever written before! Amazing. Truly.

The middle story is the big climactic story that goes into a lot of detail about how Matt handles being on his own. I can't wait to be able to start posting it! But first things first.

**MATT'S BEGINNING**

**Getting the Feel of Things**

It hadn't taken long for Matt, as he was now called, to get settled in. A single day was all he needed to get used to his new room, which was conveniently free of any roommates. It was a nice simple room with two beds, on the off chance that a new orphan would arrive.

Matt's first day of classes were dull. He sat in the back of the classroom with his new goggles adjusted over his eyes as he watched the teacher, now tinted in a comforting golden glow, pace about the room speaking in calm tones to the young children. No one in the class seemed to be the same age. There were some like him at nearly 5 years or younger, and others around, what he assumed to be, 7 or 8.

The first class was easy. Far too easy. Dull. He finished his class work expeditiously and spent the remainder of the time playing on his handheld hidden under his desk. The rest of the classes passed in a similar manner. And Matt was bored.

Time went on like this for an entire week. No one at Whammy's house had spoken to him yet or even spared him a second glance. It was almost peaceful. Matt had kept to himself as well. He focused on not standing out. And he was good at it.

Until the testing day came on Friday.

Matt had already been explained to by Roger about testing day. It was the day, once a week, that the students here at Whammy's were able to show off their intelligence. They all took an identical test, everyone from the 3 year olds to the 17 year olds to gage their intelligence. And on Saturday, the test results would be posted in order of rank, who scored the highest.

Matt was unenthusiastic about the upcoming test. If it was anything like his school work, he would pull his hair out. He didn't think that he could sit in a room for three hours answering questions. It sounded like torture to him. He shoved his handheld into his pocket and headed down the hallway to his classroom.

Thankfully, the test was better than the class work. That didn't mean that Matt actually put forth too much effort into it, but at least he wasn't too bored. He took his time answering the questions for once. He had three hours to kill after all. And the teachers had made every child empty his pockets before the test was administered. Matt missed his handheld.

He was finished just as the timer went off. _Good._ He thought. _I timed myself perfectly_. He turned his test in and grabbed his handheld before heading over to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria had to be the best thing about Whammy's. It had every food imaginable in it. And it was all loaded up on a huge buffet-styled table. Matt was always able to grab the food he preferred rather than having to eat the disgusting things that his old orphanage used to serve.

Matt grabbed a toasted ham and cheese sandwich for today and set off back towards his room eating the sandwich on the way. He just wanted to head back to his laptop setting, lonely, on his bed in his room. He wanted to finish reading that hacking website he found last night.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Matt was slow to get out of bed. It was Saturday and classes were over for the week. Matt glanced at the clock knowing that, as much as he wanted to stay in bed, if he didn't hurry, he would miss breakfast. He grumbled as he pushed himself out of bed. Sleeping was nice, but not if he missed a meal.<p>

Food was even nicer than sleep.

He made his way through his room with bleary vision shaded in gold from his goggles covering his eyes. He had forgotten to take them off during the night, not that he really cared. It was kind of nice to wake up to a pretty gold glow over everything. Maybe he would sleep in the goggles more often if this is what he woke up to.

He pulled on the first outfit he came to, not bothering to see what it was, and made his way down to the doorway to the cafeteria. Unfortunately, Roger blocked his path.

"Matt! I was waiting to see when you'd show up. Please join me in my office when you're through with breakfast." And with that said, Roger walked away. Matt shot him a curious look over his shoulder, before shoving it from his mind. Whatever Roger wanted, it could wait until Matt had his food.

15 minutes later Matt opened the door to Roger's office and entered, closing the door behind him. Roger sat at his desk holding a piece of paper up, reading it. Matt didn't ask why he was here, he just sat down in the chair facing the desk and waited. Roger would speak when he was ready.

And he did.

"Matt, have you checked the rankings this morning yet?"

The rankings? Oh. For that test from yesterday. Matt shook his head. He hadn't really cared enough to even spare them a thought. It was just another test after all.

Roger sighed. Of course the boy hadn't looked. No wonder he seemed so…

Calm.

Though he rather enjoyed well behaved children, this one just stood out. He was quiet and intelligent. Rather like a second L, to be honest. It unnerved Roger a bit to speak to him. He wished that the boy would react like a normal child would.

This…this was almost heartbreaking.

He cleared his throat and continued.

"Well. It appears that you have taken the first ranked position. Congratulations."

Matt blinked once. Twice. The first position? _He _ranked first? Out of all the 65 students here, _he_, ranked number one? Even above the teenagers? Well, that was certainly unexpected. He hadn't even really tried.

_I thought this was an orphanage for geniuses. _

Matt paused for a moment. Just what did that say about him? _Great, _he thought, _even more of a reason for me to be different._


	5. And Then There Were Two

Ok! So the moment has finally come! We get to meet the little bombshell that is MELLO! WHOOT! Yes. Its true. Mello makes his first appearance in the story in _this_ chapter.

There is a bit of a time skip. Sorry, but I just didn't have it in me to fill three years worth of Matt's boredom. I'm sure that I _could _have if I really tried, but I'm also sure that, if I had, you would have stopped reading this.

I'm really grateful to all the people who have read my stories in the past month. It really means a lot to me to have you all enjoying my work. I hope that I can continue to write more for you all to enjoy! The sequel to this is so much easier to write, but this one is actually coming along fairly quickly. A lot faster than I thought it would.

**MATT'S BEGINNING**

**And Then There Were Two**

Matt stayed in the number one rank consistently over the next few years. It wasn't all that hard, to be honest. He found that he never even truly tried during the exams. And he still maintained his rank.

It was kind of sad when you think about it.

Matt managed to stay out of the spotlight most of the time. Only once and a while would another child speak to him.

Matt never spoke back. What was the point? Genius or not, these children had already proven themselves to be far below him in intelligence. There was no doubt that they would all react in the same manner that the others before them had.

The only thing that had changed over the years was the introduction of the world famous detective L. Roger had informed Matt of this nearly two months into his stay at Whammy's. The top three students were to be put in line to be his successors if L approved them.

Apparently, Matt was the only true competition worthy of this knowledge so far. Matt was approved almost instantly.

It wasn't that Matt wasn't honored at that L would choose _him_ as a potential successor, but that Matt wasn't sure that he was cut out to be a detective. Sure he was intelligent and crafty, he thought things through logically enough, but was that enough to take over? To one day become L? Matt didn't think so.

And Matt didn't have much more to offer in his opinion.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Matt was bored. There was just no other word for it. Matt was uninterested in everything going on here. Nothing had changed at all in the 3 years he had been here. He was still number one, however unlikely it was that he had managed such a thing in the first place, he still didn't speak, and he was still left alone. Normally he didn't really mind the last two, but lately, there has been nothing at all for him to do.

Even hacking through the internet didn't seem to keep him entertained like it used to anymore and he had even beaten all of his games.

Twice.

Three times for Sonic and Mario.

Ten times for Zelda.

And he couldn't even begin to count the number of times he had taken the high score in the common room. No one could compare with his skills in video games.

But not even his precious video gaming addiction was able to lift him out of his depressive mood.

He still couldn't bring himself to speak with anyone around here save the man in charge, Roger. He knew that Roger had made it his personal goal in life to make Matt speak, something that Matt didn't appreciate in the slightest. Matt wished the man would finally give up. It had been three years for God's sake! You'd think the man would take a hint.

Nothing had made Matt speak other than the requirements in class so far, and by this rate, nothing ever would. It was just not necessary anymore. Yes the other students were intelligent. But no where near his own intelligence. He had known it was a good idea for the goggles all those years ago. At least the other students didn't seem to pay him any attention.

With a sigh, the seven year old stood and adjusted his goggles against his eyes as he moved towards the door to his room. He grabbed his handheld from it's usual place in his pocket and walked out the door. As he shut the door behind him, he glanced up at the number on the plaque adorning the door.

13

Matt always smirked at the irony of the number. He was after all, a very unlucky child. He once wondered if the caretakers had given his that number on purpose. It wouldn't have surprised him.

Matt turned away from the door and focused his attention back on the game in his hands before walking the distance toward the cafeteria. It was almost lunch time and his stomach was already protesting at the lack of food.

He hadn't even managed to walk ten feet when a body collided with his, sending him to the floor, his game sliding across the ground. Before Matt even realized what had happened, a loud, angry voice shouted out.

"OW! Damnit! Watch where you're going you damned idiot!"

Matt could only stare in wonder at the blond devil that had attacked him so verbally. _No one_ spoke like that around here. It wasn't the cursing or the volume that Matt meant. It was the _emotion_ behind that screaming. Matt could _feel_ the anger flowing over him like a rush of water.

Suddenly, Matt let loose a glare at the boy sitting on the floor rubbing his head. Matt had only gotten a taste of the blond's anger, but it had fueled his own enough to respond.

"You watch where you're going! You're the idiot who ran into me, dumbass!" He shouted back at the boy, his glare never fading. What a jerk this guy was! Yelling at him when it was his fault in the first place!

With the collision and the verbal abuse occurring, Matt didn't notice Roger standing beside the blond boy on the ground until he spoke, shaking Matt out of his thoughts.

"Ah, Matt! How good of us to run into you! I want you to meet Mello. He's your new roommate."

Matt turned his attention away from the child in front of him to stare in shock at Roger. When had he showed up? Wait…what had Roger said? _Roommate?_

During the three years that Matt had been attending Whammy's he had never had to share a room with anyone. No one wanted to get stuck with the weird silent boy and Roger's soft spot helped a lot with keeping his room his own. So, why was it that when he was finally being given a roommate that it had to be this boy!

_13._

_Oh, right. _Matt thought. _It's just my bad luck._

…

**AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

Ok! So we finally got to meet MELLO! Cookies for people who got the thing about his door number! It gets mentioned in the next story. =D In the next chapter we get to see the first bits of real interaction between our two little roommates! Here's a little preview:

_The redhead looked nothing like he had before. All the furious emotions that had covered his face when they ran into each other were just… gone. Vanished. All that was left was a dull, emotionless, shell. _

_Mello hated it._


	6. Matt vs Mello Part 1

Alright! The sixth chapter for Matt's Beginning! I had so many issues with this chapter to be honest. I'm not a cruel person so I had no idea how to make Mello irritating enough to make Matt snap. Matt was supposed to be this quiet kid who never lets anything bother him, so it had to be something big to make him snap.

I hope I did it well. :) Read and Enjoy!

**MATT'S BEGINNING**

**Matt vs. Mello Part 1**

Sitting is his room, being bored out of his mind, alone was torture. Sitting in his room, being bored out of his mind, _with him_ was worse than torture. Matt was in agony. He was ready to actually venture outside at this rate just to get away from the perpetually fuming blond.

He just sat there, his arms folded up and his face set in a frown with his eyebrows turned down in anger. For 2 hours! How can he handle sitting like that for so long? Even _Matt's _face could feel the strain from holding that glare for so long. It was driving him insane.

Matt and the new boy, Mello, (it still sounded like a stupid name to him) were given the day off from classes to 'get to know each other'. So far, that included the blond statue doing as he had been since he arrived, and Matt dragging out his gaming system and attempting to lose himself in the pixilated world of Mario.

It was far harder than it should have been.

But Matt wasn't about to break the silence. He was never one for talking anyway. So he kept silent.

Mello barely moved the entire day. The only exceptions was when he would inevitably have to get up to use the restroom. When lunch finally came around, Matt stood and checked his handheld that resided in his pocket before walking away.

Matt reached the door before realizing that he wasn't sure as to whether or not Mello knew it was time to eat. He wasn't moving at all. Maybe he wasn't hungry? Matt glared at the door for a moment in contemplation before looking over his shoulder at the still, frowning boy. He sighed and adjusted his goggles as he reluctantly spoke.

"Lunch. Come on." It was a dull monotone that Matt used when speaking. He hadn't realized how different it was than the tone he had used against the blond earlier when yelling.

Mello actually turned to the voice with a strange look on his face. The weird redhead didn't sound like he had before. Before, he sounded so full of himself and it had annoyed Mello to no end. Now…

Now he just sounded so deadened.

It irritated Mello far more than the condescending tone from before.

Mello's glare hardened further than Matt was aware it could as he stood from his seat on the bed and nodded at his new redheaded roommate.

Matt reluctantly nodded back and headed out the door with the blond in tow.

…...

Lunch was still one of Matt's favorite times of the day. The food here was just amazing. He felt in a 'chicken' mood today. Maybe a nice chicken sandwich or some tasty fried chicken legs. Whatever it was, it would just have to have chicken in it today.

When they arrived, Matt headed straight for the buffet. He never wasted any time in grabbing his food, he had no reason to. He grabbed the various food that appealed to him, one being a particularly juicy looking chunk of sweet and sour chicken, and then headed over to his usual empty table. No one ever sat with him.

He had almost forgotten about his angry blond shadow until he sat directly across from him.

Matt could actually hear parts of the cafeteria quieting down. No one sat by him. No one. People just never saw a point to it if he would never speak to them. He would bet anything that they were all waiting for some sign of vocal approach from the blond.

Mello noticed the sudden decrease of volume in the room with curiosity. What was with these people? Was it _that _unusual for someone to sit with the annoying redhead? He suddenly faced the boy in front of him and held back his shock easily.

The redhead looked nothing like he had before. All the furious emotions that had covered his face when they ran into each other were just… gone. Vanished. All that was left was a dull, emotionless, shell.

Mello hated it.

He glared at the boy again before speaking.

"What the hell is with these people? You'd think they'd never seen two guys eating lunch together." As he spoke, he glanced around the room, appearing to glare at various annoyances, all the while, truly watching the redhead's face to see if anything changed.

Matt could feel his face relax slightly. The passion in the blond's voice was still running at full steam. It was so different than anything he was used to. It was almost…nice. Almost pleasant when that annoyance wasn't directed at him. He looked at the blond for a moment before lifting the corner of mouth just a tiny bit. It only lasted a second, but he was sure the blond noticed it. Matt then turned back to his food, the traces of a smile already vanished from his face as he continued eating.

Mello felt his face light up in a grin. So, the redhead _could_ smile. It was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it _had _been there. It was so much better than the stoic look that he held.

Now, Mello just had to get him to speak again.

Before he could open his mouth to comment again, a rather large boy stepped up to the table. He looked to be only a few years older than Mello, but at least a foot taller and 50 pounds heavier.

"Hey Blondie, you're not going to get much conversation sitting here. Matt doesn't talk. You can come sit with us if you want." It was actually said in an almost…kind…tone. As if he was doing Mello a favor by inviting him to sit with them. And Matt one as well.

And he was. Matt liked being left alone and wasn't offended at all. It was true. He didn't speak. And Mello probably _would _enjoy himself more if he was to sit with them. He kept his face turned down to his food, continuing to eat.

Mello however, was filled with glee. This was perfect. Matt didn't speak, huh? _Well he already spoke to me. _A mischievous smirk graced his face before he spoke.

"He doesn't speak, huh? That's interesting. Because he's already spoken to me twice." Mello smirked at the older boy for a second before turning back to face Matt, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms relaxingly. The hairs on Matt's neck stood on end.

"Come on be a good little boy and speak. Do as I say and prove them wrong."

Matt felt his face heat up at the comment. Of all the…! Who did this guy think he was! Matt shot a glare up at the blond and stood, slamming his lunch tray on the table, silencing the entire cafeteria. Mello faltered a bit at the glare aimed at him, but quickly recovered. He shot an equal glare up at Matt.

Matt knew that Mello was just trying to coerce him into speaking, and Matt refused to give him the satisfaction. Matt simply picked up his tray and walked away from the glowering blond.

Mello glared at the spot where Matt had vacated. Suddenly a quiet chuckle began to spread throughout the entire room. Mello felt the bright red flush covering his whole face as the noise escalated. That damn bastard! Nobody just walks away from Miha-uh…Mello. Mello stood and ran after the redhead.

Matt was angry. No, he was more than angry. How dare that bratty, bitchy new kid say something so demeaning! No one had ever spoken to him like that! Matt stomped the entire way back to his room. _Damnit…It's HIS room too now. _

Matt opened the door and walked inside. He glared once at the bed on the other side of the room, Mello's bed, before reaching his hand back to slam the door when he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Mello had ran after the boy only moments after Matt had left, but Matt still had a fairly decent headstart. After running the entire way, Mello realized that Matt had been headed to their room. He turned into the open doorway just in time to see it almost slammed in his face.

With a glare, Mello began shouting at the quiet boy.

"What the hell was that back there! You made me look like an idiot!"

Matt's shock quickly faded at having been followed, something that had never once happened to him before. Then came the raw anger. Matt fixed an equal glare on his face before snapping back.

"Trust me! You don't need any help looking like an idiot!"

Mello jerked back as if electrocuted. Who did this guy think he was! He couldn't talk to him like that! Mello's glare hardened further and then he attacked, viciously.

Matt had been prepared for another verbal assault. What he _hadn't_ been prepared for was a _physical_ assault. Otherwise, he would have ducked. But, seeing how he wasn't, the fist that came flying at him struck him in the jaw. Hard.

And Matt went down.

…...

_Ow. That had to hurt. But on the bright side, Matt spoke again! That's the third time! And all to Mello! I bet Mello feels all kinds of special now._

_And for the record…I always figured that Mello would have one hell of a right hook…even as a kid._

_Probably one hell of a left hook too now that I think about it._

_I'm glad that I never met any Mellos in school._

_~Nakia_


	7. Pain

_HI! I am SOOO sorry it has taken me this long to update, but I have just hit some major roadblocks in life recently. (kicked out by a landlord, grandmother having a stroke, and a massive accumulation of cold weather without ANY immediate source of heat if you were curious)BUT! That is no excuse for not updating for my fans. _

_Also…I'm contemplating redoing this series since it felt a bit rushed to me when I read over it today. Please let me know what you all think about it. (The redone version would be almost immediately put out together if you're wondering) And there is a poll on my page about any potential pairings and how you want this story to end! Check it out and let your voice be heard! XD_

**MATT'S BEGINNING**

DISPLEASURE

Pain. It was a startling reminder of an incident that he would rather have forgotten. Curse him and his photographic memory. Every detail was crystal clear, including the sharp pain, only intensified by the still throbbing ache over his left cheek bone. An aching headache hadn't seemed to dull his senses at all though, as he could still clearly see every line and bump along that small fist that had slammed into his face.

Matt cursed.

Never even opening his eyes, though he did remove his goggles from their traitorous position on his throbbing cheekbone, he could sense that he was alone. And on the floor. _Damn that Mello!_ A soft groan left Matt's lips at the thought of opening his eyes. Or even moving at all.

But, as harsh as reality often was, Matt decided, the floor was only aggravating the stinging in his head. He had to move. It was with another pained groan of effort that he picked himself off of the floor and moved into a more comfortable sitting position, eyes still shut tight against the stream of sunlight shining in through the only window in the room.

Matt caught his breath at the unbelievable strain just simply sitting up took on his body. Maybe he should start to think about some sort of workout regimen if he was going to survive rooming with that blond-headed bastard.

Knowing that, as much as he would like to stay where he was at, he still had to move, Matt pressed his hands down to the shaggy carpeting of his _shared_ room and gave a shove. The momentum of the push gave him enough strength to raise himself the rest of the way to his feet. On shaky legs, he finally stood completely.

Though his eyes stayed closed, Matt made his way to his bed on the other end of the room. He had lived inside this small space long enough to know every millimeter of carpet, bed, desk, and wall. Before his feet hit the edge of the bed, Matt stopped and turned around, slowly dropping to sit on the soft plush of the mattress.

As he leaned backwards and his head hit the Mario decorated pillow Matt sighed out in near delight. The pillow was like heaven against his aching head. Soft, cool and unyielding, the exact opposite of that horrible carpeting lining the entire room.

Did he really _have_ to get up today? It had to be at least noon by now judging by the positioning of the sun flowing through his window. He'd already missed his three morning classes. And probably part of lunch. His hand came up of its own accord and rested against his stomach. It wasn't growling in the slightest. Nope. He wouldn't get up. If his stomach wasn't demanding food, then why should he move from the soft sanctuary of his bed? His last four afternoon classes were the more restrictive ones, being as they were right after lunch and the others were eagerly anticipating leaving the classrooms, himself often included in that. He wouldn't find much time in those to nap during those classes like he wanted. Nope. Bed definitely sounded like the best option.

With that thought in mind, Matt relaxed his body and let himself fall into a light doze.

…

Mello had woken up early that morning. The sun had barely reached the edge of the horizon when his eyes popped wide open, letting him know that he needed to get up and out of bed. A quick glance to the only alarm clock in the room, a stupid '1up' clock that lit up its digital numbers in bright green, told him that it was only 5:45. As good a time as any to be awake, he supposed.

He gave a light stretch and pushed himself up from the warm blankets. The heated room was comfortable against his light skin and he gave out a loud yawn. He blinked dry eyes and once again settled his vision on the room he slept in the night before.

It was…different.

Growing up, he had always had a room solely to himself. And as the single child of a Russian mafia boss, Mihael Keehl, as was his name, his _real_ name, had always had a rather spacious room with many personal items. Living like this…

…well, he just wasn't used to it yet.

Blinking away the depressing train of thought, Mello pushed his blankets from his body and place his feet on the shaggy carpet, testing his toes on the rough texture. As he pressed his hand to the edge of the bed to lift himself up, his eyes landed on _him._

_Matt._

A sudden streak of fury ran down Mello's spine as he stared down at the unmoving boy still laying in the same position he had been last night when struck. _It was his own fault._ Mello thought callously to himself, not the least bit sorry for his actions. No one ever insulted him and no one ever made a fool out of him. Any one that does will suffer the same as that boy did last night.

With an angry huff, Mello pushed himself up and stepped over the unconscious boy to get to his new dresser that housed his new clothing. Picking out a shirt from the pile at random, and the same with a pair of pants, Mello quickly undressed, wanting nothing more than to leave the room. _Breakfast around here started at six, didn't it? _Mello shook his head and slipped his pants over his legs and gave a sharp series of tugs at them to pull them up. After a few struggles to get them over his hips, Mello let out a sigh and buttoned them up. Heading to the mirror on the wall to the side of the room, Mello pulled his shirt over his head, shaking his hair free from the confines of the simple collar that had latched hold. A grimace crossed his face at the state of the small mirror. _Did the idiot never even look at himself?_ Mello threw a glare over his shoulder to the boy before grabbing one of the odd striped shirts that he _knew_ belonged to the other boy, and wiped the mirror clean (mostly). A quick fix of his hair and he was ready to go.

Mello grabbed his shoes from the bottom of the bed and stepped out in the hall without even putting them on his feet. He slammed the door behind him and instantly felt a bit better. Slipping his shoes onto his feet, Mello made his way to the cafeteria. Maybe, if he was lucky, he wouldn't have to deal with that red-headed annoyance at all today.

…..

_Sorry it was so short, but I didn't have much time to write more. Let me know what you all think!_

~Niki


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